


Eros

by Kuroimachi



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Bottom Victor Nikiforov, Eros AU, Eros/Victor Nikiforov, Light Bondage, Long haired victor, M/M, Marking, PWP, Rimming, Smut, Such smut!, Top Katsuki Yuuri, Wall Sex, Young Victor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-03 01:38:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8691442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuroimachi/pseuds/Kuroimachi
Summary: A young Victor Nikiforov is seduced by Eros himself.Victor manages to capture the attention of the god Eros with his sensual performances on the ice. Eros chooses a human form (a figure from Victor's future) and makes his way to the mortal world to have Victor for just one night.





	

**Author's Note:**

> There's no tag for Victor/Eros, of course, but it's Yuuri's body he uses somehow so...that counts.
> 
> I suppose I should say happy birthday, Yuuri! Although really this is more like Victor's birthday ;)

Victor can feel the thud of the bass in his chest, so deep it intercepts his heartbeat, like static interfering with a radio signal. There are people pressing in all around him, so unlike when he’s out on the ice. The ice is cold, it’s lonely. In here it’s hot and dark, and his body is alight with every brush and rub of another body against his own. He lets his eyes relax so that everything around him is a blur of light: catching on jewellery and sequins; the neon flash of bar signs; glinting in all the eyes of the people looking at him. He loves that light the most. He loves the almost palpable feel of people’s eyes on him, watching him.

A pair of dark eyes watch him from the shadows; they sit handsomely in their owner’s face. The man watches Victor and licks his lips. Victor is beautiful on the dance floor, every bit as graceful and sensual as he is in his performances. His long hair falls around his shoulders like mercury, liquid and shimmering. His jeans cling to his long legs, but his shirt is loose and sheer. Victor is why the man is here. Victor is what he has come to the mortal world for.

The god rises from his seat at the bar and stalks slowly toward the dancefloor. He takes his eyes off of the silver-haired beauty only for a moment to glance at his reflection in the mirrored wall. His eyes slide up and down the body he has given himself. He regards his clothing; the tight black shirt, the even tighter black jeans. The leather jacket with silver studs across one shoulder, which may just be a step too far. He wonders for a moment if he should discard it, but then rolls his eyes at his ridiculous hesitation and commits to wasting no more of this night.

Large, warm hands slide around Victor’s hips, he turns within their grasp and his lips fall open at the sight of the person they belong to. _I want to belong to him_ , Victor thinks and the god knows he has chosen the right form.

“I’ve been looking for you.” For a moment, Victor isn’t sure how the sound of man’s voice reaches his ears. The music is so loud and he can’t remember his mouth moving. He looks at his lips, pale pink and delicately shaped. His eyes are sharp and feline, dark in colour – perhaps brown but they look like ink in the low light of the club. His hair is dark also, slicked back away from his porcelain skin; Victor wants to touch it so badly he can feel his fingers tingling with the urge to reach out. The god smiles, at once both soft and dangerous.

“I’m not supposed to be here.” Victor says although he’s forgotten if that’s what he was supposed to say. What did the man ask? He can’t remember properly. The man laughs and Victor doesn’t breathe for a moment. He’s never seen anyone so handsome without looking in a mirror. Everything about this man has his body primed and his brain lagging.

“Such a naughty boy. Sneaking around at night.” If Victor had to guess, he’d say the man was Japanese by appearance, but his Russian is flawless, his pronunciation perfect. “Talking to strangers.” Victor’s head tips back. He’s grinding hard onto the man’s thick thigh, clinging to his shoulders. He doesn’t even remember getting that close to him. His heart is racing like his body has lost control of it. “I want to take you with me, Victor. Will you come?”

Victor shivers. His mouth has gone dry, he can’t answer. The man’s words fill his head, repeating again and again until they become distorted and lose their proper order, until what he hears is, “I want to take you, Victor. Come.”

“Oh, god.” He whimpers. He hopes the music swallows up the sound. The man grips him harder, one hand splayed against the small of Victor’s back, the other between his shoulder blades. He pushes his hips rhythmically against Victor’s and watches intently as Victor meets him desperately at every roll.

“I want to make music with your body.” _I want to sit on your face_ , Victor thinks. The dark-haired god laughs, “You can sit on it all night if you want.” Victor blinks and then he blushes so hard he feels like his skin is burning. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Did he say that out loud?

“I-I don’t…” Victor is dizzy with arousal. His body is so hot, everywhere the god touches is alight with pleasure. He takes a deep breath and steadies himself against the man’s chest; it’s warm and solid. “N-name? Your name?” Victor manages to ask.

“Eros.” The god whispers across his lips and it makes Victor’s insides run molten with heat. _Of course_ , he thinks. Eros stays so close Victor can feel his breath hot against his mouth, tickling over his tongue and that’s where the dark-haired god keeps him. Hanging in that anticipatory moment, body trembling, standing at the precipice and when their lips touch for the first time just that one kiss is like having an orgasm. A moan bursts from Victor’s slick, shining lips. “I want you, Victor. Let me have you?”

They fall through the door to the hotel room, grappling with one another. They cling to one another desperately. Their movements have become indelicate, their kisses open-mouthed and messy. Victor licks into Eros’ mouth, traces the sharp ridges of his teeth with his tongue. Long fingers sink into the rounded flesh of his backside and then slide lower until they’re dug into the backs of his thighs. His feet lose contact with the ground and he panics for a moment thinking that he’s falling, but then the solid weight of Eros’ body pins him to the wall like a butterfly in a display case. Victor wraps his legs around Eros’ waist and lets his head fall back, the dark-haired god takes the opportunity to lick up the length of Victor’s neck, tasting the sweat in the ridges of his throat; when his mouth reaches Victor’s chin he opens his jaw around it and lets his teeth sink softly into the skin there.

Eros keeps him there, helpless and fixed in place, whilst he uses Victor’s body to relieve the pressure in his cock, rubbing it against the heat between Victor’s legs. Victor pushes the jacket from Eros’ broad shoulders, the texture of the thick, sturdy leather feels erotic under his fingertips. He wants to tear at it with his teeth. He wants leather against his skin. Once the dark-haired god has discarded it, Victor drapes his arms over Eros’s muscular back again and begins clawing at his shirt, which joins the jacket on the floor. He leans back so that his eyes can rake hungrily over the freshly exposed flesh. The skin of Eros’ chest and stomach is pale, like marble, pulled taught over finely cut muscles. It makes Victor salivate, he wants to lick every ridge and curve. He wants to bite into his pectorals and feel the firm swell of his nipple against his tongue and then lick and suck at it until he is sated.

Eros grabs Victor’s hands and lays them flat against his chest, one hardened nipple pressing against each palm, offering himself up to Victor’s fingers. The Russian groans and pushes back against the wall with his shoulder blades, throwing his hips forward. Eros takes a step back, unbalanced for a moment by Victor writhing in his arms. He uses the momentum to move them across the room and then throws Victor down on the bed. Before the silver-haired man can even catch his breath, Eros flips him onto his front. "Stay there." He commands and Victor goes limp against the bed. He sheds his tight jeans and then  presses his weight against Victor's back so that he can’t move. He collects the Russian’s wrists in one hand, holding them above his head, and in the other he gathers Victor’s long, silky hair in his fist. He pulls Victor’s head back so that he can press his words, low and sultry, against his ear.

“All you have to do is give yourself to me tonight and I will take you apart in ways you didn’t know you needed.” Victor’s eyes close and he ruts shamelessly into the soft bedding under him. He feels like he’s been close to cumming since Eros first touched him and he thinks that was hours ago, “I will fuck you and fill you and make you forget everything that isn’t us, here in this room.” His words make Victor wild with want. He can feel the hard press of Eros’ cock against the plush cushion of his backside and all he can think is that it isn’t enough. “All you have to do is tell me that you want it.”

“I want it.” Victor sobs. “Please. Pl-please, I want it.” Eros smirks darkly where Victor cannot see, the boy never really stood a chance.

“I know.” He growls, and sinks his teeth into Victor’s shoulder making him cry out, ragged and hoarse. He licks over the teeth marks soothingly and then slides off of him; when he finds his footing, he pulls Victor back and up by his hair. “Take of your jeans.” Eros commands and Victor’s shaking fingers are immediately on the buttons at his waist. He pushes his jeans and his underwear down his legs, Eros stays purposefully close to him so that when Victor has to bend down Eros cock slides between his cheeks painting trails of glistening precum wherever the swollen tip of his cock touches. Victor arches his back seductively as he stands back up and is met with a hand between his shoulder blades roughly pushing his chest back down on the bed so that he’s bent submissively over the edge of the mattress. Victor shivers at the drag of the soft fabric on his exposed cock. It’s never been so sensitive and he can’t tell what is pleasure or pain anymore, but he thinks he likes both.

Eros grabs the flimsy material of Victor’s top and wrenches it up his body; when it hangs like a broken spider web around Victor’s wrists the dark-haired god wraps it around them and ties it into a knot so that his hands are bound together tightly. He slips backwards, painting a stripe of saliva with his tongue that spans the entire length of Victor’s spine. He comes to rest on his knees behind the prone Russian. Softly, Eros smooths his heated palms over Victor’s straining thighs and then sinks his fingers into Victor’s ass and pulls his cheeks apart roughly to expose his pretty, pink hole.  


“So beautiful.” The dark-haired god sighs and the air tickles Victor’s skin, making his little pucker twitch. Eros’ eyes roll back with pleasure and he knows he can’t resist anymore. He buries his face between Victor’s cheeks and tongue’s the tiny, tempting opening, licking at it until it softens enough for him to work his tongue around inside it and then sucking at it hard. Victor keens into the mattress, his toes slip on the carpet and he scrabbles to keep himself in place. He can feel his cock leaking under him, smearing precum all over the bed and his stomach. Eros pulls away with a lewd pop and Victor howls out a frustrated, relieved moan. “I forgot, I believe what you actually asked for was this…”

Still on his knees, the dark-haired god shifts around to rest his head back against the bed, neck hooked over the edge of the mattress. He reaches for one of Victor’s thighs and pivots him quickly so that he can sit back on Eros’ face. Victor’s own face is stricken with shock, his crystalline eyes wide and his mouth open in a soundless cry. Then Eros’ fingers are prying him apart again and he goes back to eating hungrily at his hole, drool dripping from the corners of his mouth and soaking his chest. Victor’s hands grasp helplessly at thin air in front of him. He can hear something high-pitched, whining continuously and it genuinely takes him a moment to realise that the sound is coming from his own mouth. His head falls forward limply, chest heaving for breath. When he wrenches his eyes open it’s to see Eros’ fist wrapped around his own cock. His cock that looks huge in his hand, too heavy to stand up straight against his body. Victor swallows thickly. He can’t stop watching the puffy, leaking head disappearing and reappearing between Eros’ fingers.

Victor feels Eros move behind him and suddenly one of his balls is enveloped in the wet heat of his mouth, teeth gently grazing the sensitive skin and making the Russian whimper pathetically. Finally, Eros releases him, pushing him forwards to balance on his own feet again. He lands a sharp smack to Victor’s backside, making him yelp. “Get up on the bed, love.”

Victor climbs onto the bed and falls forwards so that he’s resting on his elbows and knees, hands still tightly bound in front of him. “On your back, love, up against the headboard for me.” Victor shifts clumsily up to the head of the bed and falls back against the pillows. “Spread yourself open for me, let me see you.” Eros commands, voice low and rough. Victor bites into his bottom lip and lets his knees fall open so that he’s exposed. He’s still slick and shining with spit from his hole up to his balls and Eros grins as he admires his handy work. The mattress dips as Eros climbs onto it and settles himself between Victor’s spread legs.

“I-I need…” Victor whimpers, his body shaking and his cock leaking pretty pearls onto his skin.

“Sh, love, I know what you need,” Eros soothes, “just relax for me.” Victor feels the tip of one of Eros’ fingers teasing at his hole; it’s slippery with something that feels liquid and silky on his skin. He’s just loose enough from Eros’ tongue that his fingertip slides in and he’s able open Victor up slowly and carefully. Victor can’t see what Eros is doing between his legs, he can only see the shiny black hair and feel his hot breath on his most sensitive flesh. Eros kisses the inside of Victor’s smooth thighs, sucking the skin in between his teeth and working it until it blooms dark under his mouth. Victor gasps and moans, so intent on the feeling of Eros’ lips and tongue and teeth, he barely notices a second finger working into him.

When Eros slides the third finger in and feels Victor begin to push back onto his hand, he sits up so that he can look down at the state the Russian is in. It’s beautiful to behold. His hair is laid out like a silver satin pillow beneath his head. His pale skin is flushed, bite marks and dark bruises litter his neck and thighs and all the while Eros is watching him, Victor is panting and whining so deliciously desperate for him. The dark-haired god rests his knuckles against the flesh of Victor’s backside, his fingertips dancing over his prostate, and then he pushes so that Victor’s whole body moves. He feels the silver-haired man close down on his fingers, the muscles of his stomach clenching rhythmically. “You’re not allowed to come yet, love.” Eros says firmly and Victor looks up at him with dazed, glistening eyes. “I want to be inside you when you do.” He explains and watches the tears slide from the corners of the Russian’s eyes and down his hot cheeks.

“Pl-please.” Victor whispers, it’s all he can manage. Eros brushes the tears from his face softly and leans forwards to kiss him deeply.

“You’re so beautiful, Victor.” Dark eyes bore into him and he feels so much more exposed than just physically. “When you skate I feel like you’re offering yourself to me. I had to come and reciprocate.” Victor isn’t really sure he understands, his mind is too drunk on Eros to make sense of it all, but he likes the sound of the words.

He cries out sharply as Eros pushes inside him, Victor’s nails slice half-moon cuts into the back of his neck. He goes slowly, but his cock is so thick that it drives Victor mindless trying to take it all inside. By the time he’s buried himself completely inside Victor, the Russian is mewling and clinging to him. Eros soothes him with warm hands moving over his body and reverent words whispered into his ears. “You’re perfect. So good for me. You feel so good, Victor.” Eros sucks more marks onto Victor’s neck, licks into his mouth and nibbles at his lips until he feels Victor circling his hips tenderly. “That’s it, love. Look how deep you can take me.”

Slowly, Eros begins to move, the drag of Victor’s tight heat along his cock sends sparks up his spine. Victor begins to moan with each thrust inward, like Eros’ cock is pushing the sounds out of him. The moans become words – _please, more, faster, more, harder, yes_. Eros raises himself up on his knees, grips Victor’s thighs and roughly pulls him onto his cock. Victor howls like an animal and the dark-haired god fucks into him until he’s hoarse with screaming. His fingers slip through the sweat that has slicked up Victor’s skin and the Russian throws his hands back to push against the headboard, so Eros can pound him harder.

Victor’s thighs bounce up and down loosely atop Eros’ and the dark-haired god takes hold of them and lifts Victor’s back up off the bed so that only his shoulders are left in contact with it. His fingernails scrape at the wooden headboard, “Oh, god! I’m go-going..!” Victor barely manages any warning before he orgasms hard around Eros. Splashes of cum streak his chest and reach his face.

Eros holds Victor tight against him as he begins to orgasm, a flood of warm cum spilling inside the silver-haired man, who looks so thoroughly ruined beneath him. By the time he’s finished, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over him, his face is buried in Victor’s neck, panting viciously, and the Russian’s arms are around him.

He lifts his head slowly to look at Victor’s face, he wants to commit it to memory. His heart aches at the adoration in those clear, blue eyes. They look as though they’ve just discovered something wonderful.

Eros is loving and dutiful as he cleans and cares for Victor, he barely stops touching and kissing him the entire time. Victor giggles, weak and sleepy with exhausted pleasure, enjoying every bit of affection lavished upon him. He knows he won’t be quite the same tomorrow when he wakes up.

Eros wishes he could be there to see it up close.

**Author's Note:**

> Can Eros' fingers magically produce lube? If I were a god, that's the kinda power I'd want at my disposal.
> 
> Share your thoughts here or on tumblr @cosmacfoxdust - I love it when you do, honestly.


End file.
